Camera Lights
by Cutxandxrun
Summary: Ralph is a relatively new celebrity. Unfortunately the breakneck insanity called fame doesn't allow time for learning and the media pulls all the strings. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Lord of the Flies and its corresponding characters do not belong to me. **

**This was an idea that was floating around for a bit and I eventually gave in and wrote it down. It was supposed to be short, but it ran away from me and become this. It looks like I'll be updating this in conjunction with my other story, Arrows. It's an AU story and although I will try to keep them in character, AUs are about ten times harder for me to write solely because the level of character understanding required goes up about three levels. **

**Oh, and they're all 18-19 years old in this.**

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_**Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Disaster**_

"Tilt your head up more, yes, right there, good. Hold it." A camera flashes, "Okay. That's a wrap." The blonde male sighs in relief; this might be part of his job, but it didn't mean he had to _like_ it. The touch ups they had to do on him every time between shots was ridiculous; on top of that, the sheer amount of retakes required would make anyone tired of seeing cameras in general. As a result of the hours of holding different poses, his muscles are stiff and stress has wound itself around his joints. The tall teen stretches his arms above his head, sighing in pleasure as he feels his shoulders pop, relieving some of the stiffness gathered there.

"Ralph?" The blonde turns to find his manager standing next to him. Simon has a slight, delicate build; if it weren't for Ralph's first hand experiences with both the other male's mental and physical abilities, he would have sincerely doubted Simon's ability to cope with the stress of handling the complicated schedule. As it is, Simon actually has an even greater capacity for dealing with pressure than Ralph himself possesses. "It seems like you're done for the day. Good work, you look like you could use a massage." Ralph laughs at this, cracking his neck from side to side and following the black haired male down a hallway out of the building.

"I suppose I could. It's hard work being a statue." Simon smiles faintly, turning around to observe his friend. Ralph certainly looks every part of an ideal model; Simon has overheard the teen being compared to a living Greek god statue more than once. And he isn't surprised by the comparisons. The teen's long, slender frame has attracted more than just females since he first appeared on the magazines. Simon has often wondered just what kind of genes Ralph's parents had to produce someone as pretty as the tall teen in front of him.

"Simon?" The male blinks to find pale, sea colored eyes watching him, curiosity lighting the orbs. He shakes his head, waving the other away. They reach Ralph's car and the blonde is about to say goodbye when Simon surprises him with a question.

"Do you want to meet some of my friends?"

Ralph blinks at the strange request; other than Simon and the occasional date, he'd stayed relatively isolated socially from the rest of the celebrities and as a result, didn't know many of them past their names and faces. This is an interesting proposition. Well, it's not like he has anything to do at his place so he agrees to the invitation. Simon nods, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone, no doubt arranging a meeting place for whoever he was talking about. On the way to the designated spot, Simon's soft voice gives Ralph an idea of what to expect from the people he'll be meeting. All them had apparently attended the same university; Jack (Ralph recognized him as a rather famous singer) and his manager, Roger, went even further back to elementary school. Simon had bumped into Bill and Robert by accident a few months ago and they'd connected him with Maurice, who'd in turn, informed him about Jack and Roger. They had yet to actually meet up again and all were curious to meet Simon's client, Jack had apparently made a dry comment on the press' tendency to exaggerate everything and aggravated Robert. After some high words, they'd made a bet on how much the pictures of Ralph were airbrushed before being published. Ralph listened to the lengthy explanation with a growing apprehension; it looked like their first meeting would be interesting to say the least.

The meeting place is small and nearly invisible, Ralph would have missed the quaint little shop had Simon not pointed it out to him. Upon seeing the baffled look on the blonde's face at the strange choice, Simon explains that its tendency to be overlooked meant that there was less of a chance for large crowds to gather and make conversation between celebrities next to impossible; Ralph nods his understanding and the two slip in. The few patrons who are in the shop for late night drinks and snacks turn and stare at them as they step into the soft lighting inside the shop. Ralph is too busy taking the surroundings to notice Simon's smile of amusement; the smaller male has long found that the blonde was completely oblivious to the stir he caused wherever he went. A pretty waitress shows them to a secluded area of the building; where they find that, apparently, they are the last arrivals. The others have already made themselves comfortable; two are engaged in a heated argument. All of them turn at the same time when they hear the door creak, seeking out the newcomers. A broad shouldered blonde lets out a satisfied whoop, "I win, Jack. Hand it over." The tall redhead leaning elegantly against the wall on the far left snorts, pushing off the structure to maneuver closer to Simon and Ralph, he stops a few feet away from them and circles around Ralph much like a cat might circle a mouse.

"So this is the boy you've been assigned to, Simon?" Simon rolls his eyes, grabbing Ralph's elbow and guiding him to an unoccupied seat before answering.

"Yes Jack. This is Ralph; you can hardly call him 'boy' considering he's your age." The first speaker laughs, quickly disguising it as a coughing fit when Jack turns his icy glare on him.

"Shut up, Robert."

Another dark haired teen leans forward, scrutinizing Ralph's face with dark, flat eyes. The teen squirms uncomfortably under the unsettling stare; he's saved the long term inspection by Simon, who distracts the male with a question about his work with Jack. The others chime in on the conversation, leaving Ralph to try and place names with faces through the different statements directed at each other. He guesses the unsettling male is Roger; the two unnamed males on his left are probably Maurice and Bill. Robert is standing off to the side, teasing Jack about one thing or another; Jack is ignoring him, blue eyes inspecting the blonde stranger. The conversation breaks temporarily when the drinks arrive. It picks up again with a question directed at Ralph who, being caught off guard, didn't answer for a couple seconds. This leads to a barbed comment from Jack which makes Ralph snap back at the redhead. It inevitably ends in an argument between the two of them, with the four other boys as onlookers. Ralph has never met another human being that pushed all his buttons in the all the wrong places so easily; Jack seems to take delight in making him frustrated. Their conversation finally ends with Jack grabbing two motorcycle helmets from the table and dragging a irritated Ralph out of the cafe.

They're gone for a good twenty minutes. When they finally reappear, Ralph looks like a ghost and Jack is laughing his head off. The blonde shoves his companion none too gently; "What the heck was that? I didn't ask for a death wish ride." The redhead only laughs harder, eliciting another shove; when he finally recovers enough to tell what had happened, he's gasping for air.

"You should have seen yourself after I took you out on a spin. I sat out there on the bike for a good five minutes so that you would let go of my waist. Were you that terrified?" Ralph flushes.

"What kind of person takes turns going at sixty miles?" Seeing Maurice open his mouth, Ralph hurriedly adds on, "No, don't answer. I don't want to know." By now, it's nearly one in the morning. Simon stands up to leave using work as an excuse, waving goodbye to his friends and promising that Ralph would be in their next meeting as well. The remaining teens watch the retreating figure of the slim blonde before Roger raises an eyebrow at Jack, an unspoken question hanging in the air. The redhead grins, icy blue eyes fixed on the disappearing silhouette.

"I like him."

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**So, yeah. I hope that wasn't too bad. I actually sat down and somewhat plotted this one out when I realised it was turning into something longer than I thought it would be, so maybe I won't get stuck so much.**


	2. Chapter 2

**...I just have problems trying to develop stories. The time in this chapter does jump a little bit and I apologize if it seems rushed. It's so hard to figure out what will go and what won't. T^T And although I didn't plan on it this early, apparently there is some Jack/Ralph in this chapter. One of my friends pointed it out and I assume if she sees it, others will as well.**

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_**Chapter 2: A Puzzle with no Answer**_

Simon didn't need to plan another meeting for them to regroup; fame had some interesting ways of getting their schedules to intertwine at some point everyday. When Ralph had expressed his surprise, Simon simply shrugged it off with a vague comment on how it was extremely difficult to deny his friends, especially Roger and Jack, anything. The cryptic answer hadn't quelled the blonde's curiosity at all, but since there was no other explanation forthcoming, the teen stayed quiet and accepted the turn of events. The meetings weren't long; often, both parties bumped into each other and a quick greeting was all there was time for. Those fleeting pleasantries made up about 80% of the contact during work; the other 20% always involved Jack and Roger. Simon had tried to turn Roger away, explaining that he wanted to talk to Ralph alone. That hadn't worked. The terrifying aura that followed the dark teen everywhere was always persuasive enough to win the argument. By the tenth time they walked out and saw the familiar shapes waiting for them, Simon had given up on taking breaks alone with Ralph. He seemed to enjoy Roger's company anyway; although how anyone managed to even be next to the unnerving brunette was beyond Ralph. In any event, the slim teen could tell that his slight friend liked the time they spent with the other two.

Well, Simon might've begun to like the meetings with Roger and Jack, but Ralph couldn't say the same. His relationship with the elegant singer simply went downhill from their first meeting. They hadn't had a _single_ conversation that _didn't _collapse into an all out verbal war. Half the time, Ralph wasn't even sure how they got to those topics; none of what they talked about ever made sense. Once, Jack had insisted, on a random thought, that in the event they crashed on an island and had to depend on themselves, hunting would be their top priority for survival. Ralph disagreed, arguing that their best chance would be to signal for rescue to come. Their disagreement was bad enough that the two of them were kicked out of the establishment and told to resolve it outside. When they finally calmed down enough to walk back into the facility, the blonde had ignored the ginger for the rest of the gathering, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress a migraine. So, it's no surprise that after several months of this Ralph promptly chokes and walks into the doorframe, gets knocked off balance and tumbles to the ground when Simon tells him Jack is going to be working with him in a movie.

"What?!" Simon is flitting around him like a mother hen; worry so plain on his delicate features it's heartbreaking. Ralph stills the flighty form in front of him with a reassuring smile and sits up before continuing in the same incredulous tone, "Are you kidding me? Merridew and I are going to kill each other." His manager sighs, the soft disturbance of air fluttering the dark strands of hair on his forehead.

"He's not that bad, Ralph." Catching the look on the other's face, Simon gives vent to another sigh that seems to drag itself from the very bottoms of his soul; he looks completely drained. For the first time, the shadows underneath the clear eyes are evident; Simon's job has become harder as Ralph gained popularity as a celebrity and the blonde feels his conscience rebuff him for putting more stress on the other's shoulders. The brunette might be legally considered an adult, but the angelic innocence that clung to him coupled with those large eyes automatically took away years of maturity, making it that much harder to see him suffer. Guilt hammers at his chest and the blonde sighs in defeat, running long fingers through his hair.

"Okay." The tired posture on front of him brightens up immensely at the single word. Simon looks so relieved that Ralph almost forgets the fact that he's just agreed to walk into a disaster waiting to happen. _Almost._

The next couple weeks give Ralph a pounding headache and an urge to punch everything he sees. Jack seems bent on pushing him just short of jeopardizing the entire shoot. He tests the rules to the point where Ralph wonders if the ginger held any regard for them at all. Even worse, the roles they are cast in makes contact with each other inevitable and twists their already coinciding schedules even more together, to the point where Roger knows Ralph's day by heart and Simon can recite Jack's unconsciously. After a particularly rough patch, where retake after retake was necessary and the director had reprimanded him in exasperation, Ralph escapes to the quieter halls connecting the filming room and the changing rooms. Jack catches him watching the traffic in an unused studio.

"Come on." He shepherds the blonde to the exit, ignoring the protests. Once they get to his motorcycle, Jack tosses Ralph a helmet and swings onto his seat gesturing for the blonde to follow suit. The blonde shifts uncertainly at the unexpected offer, warily weighing the consequences of accepting. Jack notices the other's internal struggle and lifts one side of his mouth in a mocking smirk, "Scared?"

That jibe does it. Ralph covers the distance between them in two long strides and gives Jack's helmet a solid thwack before sliding on behind him. Feeling hesitation again from the teen, Jack starts the engine and slams down the accelerator. Ralph jumps, cursing under his breath as his arms automatically clutch at the slim waist in front of him. This ride isn't much better than the first one. Ralph's convinced they're going to die each and every time a car whizzes past them with inches to spare; fear making adrenalin shoot through his veins and his heart skip a beat from terror.

"You can let go now." Ralph starts at the dry comment, snapping out of his terrified reverie. The first thing he notices is the absence of the stinging wind; the next is the tingling numbness of his hands, which seem to have frozen in their clenched position. Ralph slowly uncurls them one at a time, marveling at how stiff they'd managed to become; he feels Jack sigh and shift, obviously aching to get off the vehicle and to their actual destination. The moment Ralph completely lets go of him, Jack slides off and waits impatiently for Ralph to do the same. The ginger male must have seen the apprehension in his companion's eyes because he suddenly addresses the blonde.

"Roger's out with Simon and I'm starving." The abrupt explanation startles the other teen and he jerks up to stare at the figure in front of him; Jack is already several paces away, heading towards a large, fancy building. Ralph catches up to the redhead and they enter the restaurant in silence; a waiter leads them to a secluded table at Jack's request as Ralph takes in the sparkling chandeliers and elaborate wall decor. As they pass the main dining area, the female patrons turn and stare at them, leaning together and giggling. A camera flash goes off somewhere in the room. Jack doesn't seem to notice; Ralph is a bit more uncomfortable, still unused to the reactions others had when they saw him. Jack's phone rings the minute they're at a table, he checks the ID, rolls his eyes and drops a menu onto Ralph's lap ordering him to decide on something while he takes the call. Several minutes later, Jack comes back to see the blonde gaping at some delicacy worth enough money to buy two full meals in regular restaurants. "You eat that? Wow, you're weird."

Ralph splutters. "NO! It's just so expensive."

"For shame, your ignorance is showing." The blonde's eyes flash, a sharp retort at the tip of his tongue; Jack stops him with a finger, eyes suddenly undecipherable. Ralph backs off at the sudden change in expression; a trickle of fear winding itself around his heart. The redhead takes advantage of Ralph's frozen posture to take in every detail; icy eyes raking across the other's figure critically. Jack finds the blonde intriguing to say the least. His expressions morphed so readily between emotions that it was nearly impossible to isolate what the blonde was really feeling before his features rearranged themselves again. Blue-green eyes stare back at him, a faint challenge still lurking in their glinting depths. For a while, both boys stare at each other, a tense atmosphere hovering between them. Ralph drops his eyes first, pushing the menu back towards Jack in a mute suggestion that the redhead order something instead. It's quiet between them for the rest of the meal and the ride back to the filming location. Ralph has slid off the bike and is removing the helmet when Jack breaks the silence with a strange comment.

"You're an interesting person." Ralph's dumbfounded look is exactly the reaction Jack wanted.

"Um. Thank you?" The ginger smirks, lounging on his motorcycle. The late afternoon light gilts his ivory skin and floods his large eyes until the blue seems inlaid with gold. Ralph turns away, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in his throat. Jack is cryptic, an unsolvable puzzle; although the blonde has interacted with him multiple times, Ralph still doesn't understand the redhead at all. He isn't sure where the urge to get to know Jack better is coming from either; the after-shocks of terror must be messing with his head. Ralph's saved another oncoming headache by the appearance of Roger at the entrance with Simon not far behind him. The taller brunette greets Jack and slides onto his own black motorcycle; the two friends tilt towards each other in a conspiratorial way and Ralph catches Jack's amused smirk moments before the two tall teens kick off on their bikes and disappear down the road.

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**I'm trying to hammer out the rest of the plot line down into something more definitive, but oh my goodness, I suck at planning for anything.**

**Reviews will be appreciated :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am completely stuck on "Arrows". So, I will be focusing on this story and banging my head on the wall at the same time. Outlines are so helpful, you know? Too bad I suck at remembering to do them. I'm trying to figure out how to write this story so that the story will move along but not at the speed of light. That is also ridiculously hard; I've just gained a buttload of respect for professional authors.**

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**_Chapter 3: Fire-storms start with a Spark_ **

It's strange how a single deviation in any course of action can set off a chain reaction of events. No one expects significant results from a single action; but then again, it takes only the smallest shift in foundation to cause the catastrophic avalanche. If minuscule alterations can rouse Nature's fury, there is no reason why one action can't have outcomes that are disproportionately large in comparison.

That meeting was one in nearly a hundred meetings, but the peculiar way it deviated from norm had immediate consequences; the moment Jack threw Ralph off with something resembling a compliment, changes begin to appear in their relationship. It's evident that Ralph has begun to at least tolerate Jack's presence with a degree of friendliness. The blonde has stopped, to Simon's immense relief, taking aspirin every time he sees the redhead approaching. The small brunette isn't sure how much aspirin is too much, but it certainly can't be healthy swallowing pills every other hour. The adjustments are minuscule, but adjustments none the less that begin to shift the tense, business like relationship into one that vaguely resembles friendship. The most evident shift appears during the break times, where the two teens toss lines at each other in an attempt to memorize their own faster. This isn't an uncommon occurrence but previously, there was always a harsh edge to the atmosphere that made intruders exceedingly uncomfortable. The news that the iciness had thawed by a few degrees is received with no end of relief. Simon commented on this once to Ralph, but all he got was a blank look and a hand on his forehead testing for fever.

"You're batty Simon." The smaller teen rolls his eyes, hazel pupils betraying the slightest bit of frustration. Ralph is amiable on most topics, but talking about Jack always manages to bring out the worst stubbornness in him. The blonde refuses to acknowledge any improvement between them, simply pointing out that getting along with the singer made work more pleasant for everyone. It was, therefore, in his mind a convenience factor for all involved. Simon exhales slowly, arguing won't get him anywhere so he drops the topic and tells Ralph that he's been called out so the blonde's free to do as he pleases. Jack, for once, isn't around to drag him places so Ralph decides to look around the city a little bit on his own. His explorations lead him to a rather unique looking joint; it looks relatively quiet so he walks in. After ordering at the counter, Ralph sits next to the window, close to another teen who looks like a cook of some kind. The rotund boy gives him a questioning smile, which Ralph returns out of politeness; apparently, that was all that was needed for the boy to start talking Ralph's ear off.

The blonde shifts uncomfortably, wishing that his order would arrive sooner so that he would have a reason to escape the talkative teen. He'd learned more about this complete stranger-his name is Nathaniel Mitchell but people liked to call him Piggy for whatever reason- in past couple minutes than he'd learned about Simon over a year. Ralph's almost relieved when he hears the purr of twin motor engines and sees the familiar tall figures pass through the door and begin weaving gracefully around the matrix of tables and chairs towards him. Maybe Roger's terrifying aura, if nothing else, will make the other teen shut up.

Jack reaches him first as Roger had branched off to address another one of his phone calls, and upon noticing Ralph's companion, gives a strange smile. Ralph catches first the flash of recognition mixed with sadistic amusement in the blue depths of his eyes then the pupils flicker to him and they darken considerably; Piggy seems to have some history with the redhead because the moment he sees the blue eyes change color, he immediately excuses himself and escapes to the far end of the dining area before disappearing into what looked like the kitchen. Jack slides into the chair facing Ralph, still eying the place where the bespectacled teen had disappeared to.

"Are you friends with him?" Ralph stares at the question. For one, he couldn't see why Jack cared; for another, there's a barely detectable edge in the ginger's voice that sounds suspiciously like possessiveness. The blonde dismisses the latter, deciding that it was too unlikely to be plausible and answers in a dry tone.

"Yes, Jack, I like to be around people whose hobbies include talking me deaf. My favorite type of personality actually." Jack glares at his sarcasm, but relaxes minutely. The apprehensive feeling springs back into Ralph's stomach. Jack _didn't have_ a reason to be possessive, right? The blonde male pulls out some pages of his script, needing something other than the icy blue eyes to focus on. Jack doesn't make any comment on this but Ralph can feel the singer's eyes watching him; after five minutes, Jack's long fingers suddenly appear, pushing down the top of the paper script. Ralph immediately looks up with a sharp protest.

"Don't you have better things to do other than bother me?"

Jack smirks, amusement lighting up his eyes, and pushes the script down further until it is laying flat on the table. He taps the page lightly and gives an elegant shrug, "You've been looking at the same page for a while," he suddenly leans in really close; Ralph can see a distorted reflection of himself in the pale pupils, "Am I _distracting_ you?"

Does he have no regard at all for personal space? Ralph leans away from the redhead, feeling both blood rush to his cheeks and exasperation make its way onto his features.

"Yes, you are. And you're _too close_!" Jack snorts but backs away and gets up, spinning around to rejoin Roger, who had been standing there unnoticed by Ralph for a while now. The ginger accepts his drink from his manager and both disappear through the exit. There's the faint sound of twin motorcycles starting before the regular noise of the street swallows anything distinguishable up. Ralph sighs in relief, ironic since he had wanted Jack to appear just ten minutes ago, but the other male has an uncanny ability to put him on edge and Ralph doesn't need another headache. The media have begun to be rather interested in his relationship with the singer; apparently, five pictures of the two of them posted on the Internet have started rumors that picked up momentum and caused millions of curious eyes to become trained on any developments. The blonde rubs his temples; he's going to hope this doesn't go too far.

"He's too interested in you," Ralph starts at the unexpected voice at his shoulder. He turns to see a bespectacled stare regarding him with something akin to pity.

"Pardon?"

"I mean Jack. Jack Merridew. It's no good to become entangled with him." Piggy must have felt the confusion in Ralph's stare because he elaborates in an irritated voice, "You haven't noticed? Nothing good ever comes out of being with him, he'll drag you down and eat you alive, I tell you." He snorts in contempt, muttering under his breath, "Stole my glasses back when we were in the last year of university, the blasted arrogant fool. No taste in culinary arts either." He walks away, still mumbling. Ralph watches him go with some degree of apprehension, were _none_ of the people involved or were involved with Jack normal?

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**This is where the definitive plot line ends and the vagueness begins. It's going to take longer now because I have to figure out how to make it flow and add the components in. **

**Reviews? :D They are rather encouraging.**


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